Forfeit
by phsycocat53
Summary: Harry uses a life debt to claim something... but what is it he truly hopes to gain?


"You forfeited a life debt just for _me?_" Draco couldn't hide the astonishment from his voice. "But? why?"

Harry smiled without humour. "Oh believe me, Malfoy, I'm claiming it to the fullest." He slowly walked forward, his footsteps soft and silent against the marble floor as he stealthily drew nearer to Draco. "Think about it, this is _exactly_ what life debts are really about, aren't they? Not to save your own life, but to claim another's."

An indistinct fear flitted across Draco's features, and he took a step backward, eyeing Harry with a mixture of amazement and apprehension. Something inside Draco panicked, something that knew this was unmistakably wrong, because the Harry he knew never spoke with that merciless tone of steel in his voice. "Harry? Are you feeling all right?"

Harry's eyes shone an unearthly emerald silver, and he leaned in, pressing Draco against the wall, their faces merely inches apart. "I've never felt better... _Malfoy._"

With that, Harry captured Draco's lips in a searing kiss, both his hands pushing Draco's shoulders up against the hard concrete, immobilising him. His fingers gripped Draco's arms with hurtful pressure, nails digging into soft flesh under thin fabric, and Harry bent forward and kissed Draco hard, his manner harsh and fiercely dominant.

Draco let out a soft gasp as he felt Harry's tongue pry his lips apart, and he opened his mouth under Harry's, gradually losing himself in the guilty pleasure of being taken so forcefully, even though a part of him didn't enjoy the roughness of Harry's kiss. He felt Harry's hands run down the sides of his body, pulling ungently at his clothes, fumbling at the buttons of his shirt.

Draco resisted slightly, and he pushed Harry away from him, withdrawing from their lip-lock. "Not here, Harry." He glanced nervously around the room ? it was the conference room in the Ministry Of Magic Headquarters, for god's sake! "Anyone might come in."

He nudged Harry away, slipping out of his grasp; but quick as lightning, Harry grabbed him and slammed him up against the wall again. Draco let out a soft exclamation, startled, but the indignant protest on his lips died away as he saw the intensity blazing in Harry's eyes.

Harry held Draco's chin, forcing him to look at him. He saw the fresh emotion darting in those grey eyes, warmed with passion and fearful anticipation, and Harry realised that he never wanted Draco more in his life than at this very moment, right _now,_ with Draco at his mercy, completely and irrevocably _his._

"Have you forgotten?" Harry's voice was soft and emotionless as he spoke. "You belong to me now, and you will do as I tell you." He started to pull the front of Draco's shirt apart to accentuate his point.

Draco stared at him, and an ambiguous emotion glazed with horror flitted across his face. "Please, Harry." He did not respond to Harry's physical ravishing; instead, he glanced anxiously at the door, which wasn't even locked. His muscles seized up reflexively, a sinking fear freezing his blood as it ran cold from the chill of Harry's words. "Be sensible, Harry, _please_, not here."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry hissed fiercely, taking Draco by the shoulders and pushing his unresisting body onto the grand oak conference table in the middle of the room. "I don't recall giving you a choice about whether or not you want this, because frankly, I really don't care."

Draco stared at Harry, his horror undisguised. "What has got into you, Harry?" he pleaded desperately, gazing into the pale emeralds devoid of emotion that stared right back at him. Bewilderment spiralled through him as he searched for an answer in Harry's stone-cold eyes. "God, Harry, what is the _matter_ with you!"

Their gazes held for a moment, but nothing connected.

Then Harry's lips curled in a cynical smile. "Nothing's wrong with me, Malfoy. In fact, as I told you before, I've never felt better." He deftly climbed onto the sturdy conference table, pushing Draco back down onto the polished wooden surface. "You know something? I once told myself that I'd have you before I turned twenty." Harry shook his head, and his smile was one of victory. "I never expected that I'd really _get_ you like this, in all senses of the word."

Draco's eyes were transfixed on Harry with helpless confusion, his mouth slack with disbelief. Finally, the words choked to his lips, "Why are you doing this, Harry?"

Harry's expression softened imperceptibly, although his voice remained hard. "Because I want you, like I have for a long, long time. Because I want you to belong to _me_, and now you do."

"What are you talking about?" Draco ran a hand through his blond hair, shaking his head in mild exasperation. "You already had me, Harry. Even before you went and asked for me in lieu of the life debt my father owed you."

And in these quiet words Draco spoke the truth, because even before this radical, bizarre change in Harry, Draco knew who held the reins to his heart, and it had been Harry. He hadn't seen Harry in month and a half, and something had definitely altered between them, and it scared him.

"No, I didn't _have_ you, not until now." Harry's voice was cold, so incongruous to the warm, gentle tone Draco was so used to hearing from his lips. "It wasn't the same back then."

"You're right." Draco's voice was a soft whisper, and a rare plea shone in his grey eyes. "It's not the same. I haven't seen you in six weeks, Harry, and you've? you've changed." His voice trembled slightly as emotions threatened to spill over. "What's happened to you since we last talked?"

"Nothing's happened to me." Harry's reply was in that same, toneless voice. "Maybe you've just forgotten how I was like before."

Draco closed his eyes; at that moment everything felt so right, with Harry leaning over him, his lips just a kiss away, but at the same time it felt all wrong, distorted with cold distance too far to breach, because this Harry wasn't the one he knew, and loved.

"No." Draco shook his head, desperation rising frenetically within him. "I could never forget."

Draco took Harry's face in his hands, looking deep into those fathomless green eyes, wondering how to get through to him, to find the key that was lost in the time they were apart. He took a deep breath, and suddenly the words tumbled out tangled with painful truthfulness, "I love you, Harry."

Harry regarded him dispassionately. "I said I wanted you, Malfoy, I never said anything about love."

Harry's words ripped through Draco like a hook tearing through his chest. Draco suddenly felt sick, as if the pit of his stomach had fallen away and all that was left was nothing but a gaping void. He stared at Harry, disbelief mingled with shock.

In his life, Draco Malfoy vowed that he would never cry, but at this moment he was on the verge of breaking his promise. He never felt so terrible and hopeless in his entire life ? when he had felt lonely in Harry's absence, the thought of seeing him again had sustained him, but now this lifeline was shredded to pieces in his grasp, and all Draco could feel was the sheer, rending pain.

And it hurt, it hurt so badly.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he finally managed in a broken whisper. "What have I done to you, Harry, to make you so mad at me? Because I can't think of anything right now, everything is so complicated..."

"There's nothing complicated about it," Harry cut in, his voice icy. "It's really very simple. You belong to me now, as payment for the life debt your father owes me. You are exclusively my property, which means that you will do everything that I tell you." Harry smiled, and Draco shivered; it was such a cold, loveless smile. "And I may _want_ you, Malfoy, but I don't love you."

The shattered fragments of Harry's words pierced a wound right through Draco, and words failed him as he stared at Harry, hovering just above him. His eyes implored Harry's, but met with nothing but empty rejection. Not a single vestige of the Harry he used to love remained in this person leaning down on him, now kissing him with a heated passion without a hint of tenderness.

Harry held Draco down on the table, pinning his wrists on either side of him as he kissed Draco's mouth thoroughly, noticing but ignoring the lack of response from his lips. His hands ran over Draco's body, feeling the cool skin warm under his touch, although he could feel Draco trembling against him, a persistent quivering that wasn't born of cold. And it angered him, because he could sense that Draco was scared and unwilling, and even though he told himself he didn't care, he still did.

Harry kissed him fiercely, his lips bruising Draco's flesh as his mouth ran along the graceful curve of his neck, as it snaked back to Draco's lips and kissed him with such fervour that he thought Draco might just about suffocate if he didn't let up. Draco felt different, and Harry didn't know why, but all the pent-up frustration and anger and loneliness rushed to the surface and spilled over, and all he wanted was to take Draco, to brand him as his and his alone.

Harry supported himself on his knees, straddling Draco's slim waist, and he bent forward, the weight of his body holding Draco under him as his hands traversed randomly over the body that he'd dreamt constantly of during all those solitary nights. Draco lay obediently beneath him, and Harry could feel Draco's body subconsciously arching up to meet the warmth of his chest, and?

?Suddenly, the doors of the conference room were thrown open, punctuated by a collective gasp followed by a stunned silence.

Startled, Harry jerked around, and was confronted with a handful of Ministry officials, all of whom wore identical looks of pure amazement. All movement in the room froze for a few seconds; then Harry swore heatedly, moving off Draco, who also seemed too shocked to react. The Ministry wizards quickly recovered from their shock, mumbled excuses and scuttled away, doubtless rushing off to tell everyone what Harry Potter and Lucius Malfoy's son were doing on the conference room table.

Harry looked disgusted as he climbed off the table and started arranging his rumpled clothes. Draco sat up, dazed, pushing his fringe out of his eyes, feeling disoriented not only because of the interruption. His eyes cut to Harry, who was looking very agitated.

"Bastards," Harry muttered irritably. He straightened his collar roughly. "Barging in like that, what the hell do they want?"

"You're here to give your official statement on the events in the past few weeks, and the court session starts in five minutes." Draco started to button his shirt, finding one or two buttons missing, torn off in Harry's enthusiasm. "I think they were just looking for you."

"Let's go," Harry said brusquely, striding toward the door, which had been left ajar. "Before they come back with Omnioculars."

"Harry." Draco called quietly, his voice sounding tired, defeated. "Can we talk about this?"

Harry spun back sharply. "Talk about what, Malfoy?" he snapped, too quickly. "Haven't I already made myself clear on the situation as it stands?"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." Draco replied, his tone of voice measured, watching Harry's reaction carefully. "Why are you calling me Malfoy now, Harry? And what about this life-debt exchange? What's happened to you?"

"What's _happened _to me, Draco?" Harry spat Draco's name almost hatefully, and Draco winced; it was even worse than the coldness of his tone when he had called him Malfoy. "What's _happened_ is that I've spent the last six weeks in living _hell,_ while you were sleeping soundly in your bed lined with hand-woven silk sheets. What's _happened_ is that I've seen people dying horribly before my eyes, tortured by none other than your _father,_ and now I've to live with myself for having let him off the hook, and that was entirely for _your sake._" Harry's eyes sparked with vivid, seething anger. "And now I just wonder if it was all worth everything it cost. Even for you."

He turned and stalked off without waiting for Draco, slamming the conference room door so hard that it sprang open again. Feeling rather lost, the shock slowly fading to a detached numbness, Draco got to his feet and automatically followed Harry out.

Draco lingered a few steps behind Harry as they moved through the crowded corridors, not daring to walk alongside him ? their relationship was far from public, although several people cast them strange looks, which only went to show how fast information travelled down the grapevine. Draco guessed that the news of Harry topping him on the conference room table was now spreading through the Ministry Headquarters like wildfire.

As they rounded a corner, Harry abruptly stopped, and turned back, walking over to Draco. Draco looked up, surprised; Harry took him by the hand, pulled him close and kissed him hard on the lips, right there in the middle of the packed hallway, drawing a murmur of muted exclamation from the crowd around them.

Draco closed his eyes, feeling a heated blush on his cheek where Harry's hand gripped his face. On any other occasion, he'd have felt gratified, but now misery and embarrassment was all that filtered through him, apart from the molten sensation of being kissed by Harry, whatever the circumstances.

Draco was actually mildly surprised that a dazzle of flash-bulbs didn't go off when he opened his eyes. Surely people wanted the scoop on who Harry Potter was snogging? From the faces of the people lining the corridor, it seemed they had all been too stunned to react as well.

Harry didn't pull back after he broke the kiss. Instead, very softly, in the same manner that one would whisper endearments, although his tone was sharp as a blade, he whispered in Draco's ear, "You're mine, Malfoy."

Harry didn't smile at Draco; he cast him a disdainful look, then turned and walked off, his manner brisk and uncaring. Draco stood where he was for a few moments, the taste of Harry still warm on his lips, the pain of Harry's coldness still fresh in his heart. The horde of wizards and witches gawking at him didn't help either, and Draco didn't know whether to follow Harry or to walk away in the other direction, and for once in his life he felt extremely awkward.

In the distance, Lucius Malfoy stood leaning against a pillar, watching the commotion that rippled through the crowded hallway as Harry Potter kissed his son right in front of everyone, a hero marking his sinful possession. He continued to watch as Harry abruptly turned and walked away, and he saw how shaken Draco looked, noticing the lost confusion in his son's eyes.  
Lucius smiled pitilessly. The spell was working, and so was his plan.


End file.
